


Instead of This

by technicolorCarbon



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Acrostic Bullpoopy, Cuddles, Fluff, If you know what acrostic is you'll get it, M/M, Post-Coital, Schmoop, Sleepy Cuddles, i didn't bold the letters this time, mentions of bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicolorCarbon/pseuds/technicolorCarbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying something new— Acrostic-inspired oneshot. composed of 30 sentences, some awkward, some run-on, all heartfelt and written on the brink of exhaustion.</p>
<p>He really just loves being with Dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instead of This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BenignIdealist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenignIdealist/gifts).



He never falls asleep immediately after sex, not even once.

(Even if Dave likes to be able to watch over him as he drifts off, and while he’s resting.)

Really, it’s a game he plays with himself- see who can win out this time, sleep or John’s weird urge to stay up?

Everytime Dave’s eyelids droop closed, every time his breathing slows and his arms loosen around him, he knows he’s won.

And then he sits up a bit, slipping his boyfriend’s arm from around him, making sure he doesn’t wake, and traces his fingers   
over his body.

Light touches, little brushes; he does it every single time.

Like he’s trying to memorize how Dave feels, sense how solid he is, touch every square inch of him before he wakes up.

Yet he’s never quite managed to trace him over completely before Dave wakes up, and it drives him absolutely crazy!

John’s convinced he’s trained himself to only sleep for half an hour solely for the purpose of waking up and scaring him shitless.

(Unless he’d trained himself to sleep that short amount of time because he knows that John hasn’t fallen asleep, hasn’t joined   
him yet in the Land of Slumber and Dreaming.)

Sometimes, he keeps his fingers running over Dave’s face, outlining his lips and nose, thumbing gently over his cheekbones, even after his eyes have opened, after he’s murmured a soft, ‘Hey,’ even after Dave’s already moved and laced his fingers through John’s.

Truth be told, (even if it’s a bit creepy,) he just loves _touching_ Dave.

Loving him, kissing him, holding him, combing through his hair, making love to him, tickling him, hugging, cuddling, sucking him off, holding hands, even if it’s just a split-second brush of arms at the dinner table or at school.

Once he’s admitted it to himself, it’s easier to tell Dave why he reacts so strongly to absolutely everything the blonde does to him.

Vaguely, he realizes that Dave’s eyes are moving under his lids, stuttering from side to side in REM, and he slows his tracing of the other boy’s thighs, lightening his touch ever so slightly.

Especially this evening, after the events of that day at school had been so intense, Dave needed sleep.

(So what if he did too, he needs to touch Dave, consciously love on him, now more than ever.)

Being gay at an entirely-straight (and homophobic) school apparently wasn’t a great way to avoid being bullied; who would’ve   
thought it?

Even through the remembered pain, (ow, oh god, there was a stupidly huge bruise on his ribs from their shoes, and _fuck_ if that wasn’t a bitch to try and sleep on-) his fingers remain steady on Dave’s chest, lovingly copying the shape of a thin scar on his ribcage.

(Interestingly enough, he hardly has any scars from strifing with Bro.)

None of the names or words they’d shouted at him or written on his locker bothered him that much, and after seeing how angry   
Dave got, and such a long, stretched-out evening (full of sex, talking, caring for bruises, talking again, and more cuddly sex,) he had a hard time remembering them.

Granted, they’d hurt, but that was only temporary.

What actually bothered him (after the pain had been kissed away by Dave,) was how easily boys their age succumbed to violence as a solution for problems (wait, no, he’s not a problem; it’s just that that’s the only word he can think of to suit his purposes!)

It’d been pretty easy for him to convince Dave (and himself,) though, that he was fine- and by now, he really was.

Tracing over Dave’s chest, he pulls himself halfway out of the fatigued musing he’s immersed himself in, and shifts his attention to the slumbering face of his lover- except wait, no, he’s awake, and he’s watching John, and he finds himself blushing slightly at the way the blonde’s lips are curved up.

He has to laugh, though- ( _Are you running out of breath from running through my head?_ )- and leans up slightly, shifting position on the bed so he’s holding Dave against him, fingers running through his hair, lips pressed gently against his temple.

Dave snorts and tangles his fingers through John’s, twisting slightly- ( _You lips look lonely, do they wanna meet mine?_ )- and presses a kiss to them, brushing a hand over his bare chest and murmuring a soft ‘ _I love you_ ,’ into his mouth.

And, of course, as soon as Dave’s mouth is no longer occupied, he’s running his mouth again- John doesn’t have it in him (anywhere) to be even mildly put off, though.

Viscous sleep drips over his brain, then, filling it with a think fug of fatigue, and he hardly registers when Dave mumbles something in his ear- ( _Go to sleep, babe, you need to start doing that instead of loving on me_ )- and begins soothing his fingers through his hair.

Every time they’ve been together, Dave has had to tell him to sleep, and John’s not sure he wants it to change.


End file.
